The Story Untold
by Ennorwen
Summary: In Lothlorien, Aragorn faces his future and Celeborn shows why he is counted among The Wise. Sil & UT thrown in also. First Story, Constructive Criticism Welcome.


THE STORY UNTOLD

Author: Ennorwen

Time Period: Third Age, FOTR

Characters: Fellowship, primarily Aragorn and Legolas, Celeborn and Galadriel

Summary: In Lothlorien, Aragorn faces his future and Celeborn shows why he is counted among "The Wise." Primarily bookverse, with movieverse Aragorn and a little Silmarillion and Unfinished Tales thrown in for good measure.

Warnings: None

Rating: G

Beta'd by: becketeer

Exhausted and grieving, the fellowship made its way to the legendary woods of Lothlorien. Aragorn lead, Legolas close behind, running to the refuge and away from the nightmare of Moria. The hobbits struggled, slowed by their grief and stature while Boromir and Gimli brought up the rear, anxious to reach safety but wary of the mysteries of The Golden Wood.

They were soon met by the Galadhrim at wood's edge. The Marchwarden and his patrol carefully escorted the group to the court of Celeborn and Galadriel at Caras Galadhon.

Galadriel, distracted by the one ring's presence and Frodo's demeanor did not see what Celeborn noticed. Aragorn seemed bewildered and distracted. Legolas stood near, adding his strength to Aragorn's, and, willing him to the present, stood ready to catch him should he falter.

Once dismissed, the eight were led to a serene copse of trees and moss where they would make their camp. The pherianneth quickly found their place and began unrolling blankets and emptying packs. Sam sat with a thud, pots and pans clanking around him. Gimli wandered, muttering, and wondered how in Arda he could fall so hard, so fast, and for an elf-witch at that. Boromir methodically unstrappped his shield and sword, and reached for the pitcher of water that had been left for the group.

Legolas, fascinated by the mellyrn, went from tree to tree, touching and listening, all the while keeping close watch on his fellows, Aragorn in particular.

For his part, the future king stood impassively, looking from hobbit to man to dwarf, feeling the full weight of his destiny pressing upon him. He knew that the group now looked to him, and the decisions were now his, but he was not ready to make them. He knew he was expected to take up Gandalf's part, and felt inadequate to the task. He knelt down beside a nearby tree and leaned against its solid bark.

After the evening meal, the elves' singing began in earnest – a lament for Gandalf, Legolas told them, the haunting sounds rising up through the canopy and thrown into the night. The fellowship settled down, one by one, into a deep sleep.

Legolas, watching from tree's edge, wanted nothing more than to tell the Ranger that he was worthy of their trust – of their loyalty and love. He had watched the man grow up and knew the wisdom and goodness in him. They had saved one another from perils small and large for over seventy years of the sun and had become good friends, nay, gwador (sworn brothers). As much as Legolas' heart ached for Gandalf's loss, his heartache for his friend was greater.

Aragorn, seeing his friend's concern, smiled a half smile and dipped his head in acknowledgment. Sighing, he laid down his head and closed his eyes.

…The fellowship had made their way to the bridge of Khazad-dum and one by one crossed the crumbling structure. The servant of Morgoth close behind, they felt flames lick at their feet. Gandalf turned to confront the demon and unleashed every power he had – invoking the Flame Imperishable (Eru Illuvatar). The wizard fought. His staff and Glamdrung whirled – the Balrog's flaming whip slithered. Belching fire and sulfur, it advanced and threw the wizard down, the bridge breaking beneath them. The creature fell into the chasm. As Gandalf turned to escape, the tail of the Balrog's whip snaked up from the abyss -

…Legolas watched his friend in his disturbed sleep. He saw the Ranger's legs move and arms flutter. He heard the moans and anguish in Aragorn's voice and stepped closer to comfort him should he wake. He tentatively reached out to still the Ranger's legs –

In his dream, Aragorn watched as the whip of fire reached for Gandalf, and startled when instead he felt the flail wrap itself around his own legs. It seared his flesh and began to pull him towards the edge of the crevasse. Reacting quickly and quite by instinct, he reached for Anduril.

The distinctive sound of the steel leaving its' sheath broke the silence of the night. Aragorn grasped the sword and whirled once, a trick Glorfindel had taught him to gain leverage and forward thrust. He flexed his knees and adjusted his grip to hold the weapon more firmly. He brought the famed sword over his head in a wide arc, poised to strike at the creature that assailed him. Through the fog of his consciousness he thought he heard someone scream his name.

"Strider," yelled a now awake Merry, from behind him.

He allowed his eyes to move slightly left, but it did not deter his purpose. Ready to strike, the Ranger swung the sword downward.

Upon Aragorn's first movement, Legolas had quickly withdrawn his hand and stepped back a pace. With wide eyes, he saw his friend take up his sword and was suddenly aware that he was its' target. The sword began its' descent and the elf put out his hands to defend himself. He had no weapon and had realized Aragorn's intent too late to spring away. Instead, he quickly went to his knees and holding his hands open-palmed and chest high, called out to his friend.

"Aragorn! Ai, Aragorn! Daro! (halt)"

Aragorn hesitated as his vision widened and grey eyes met blue. He now saw the fair face below him – his mellon – his gwador.

"Sidh (peace)," Legolas was saying, "Sidh, mellon-nin. You have been dreaming."

The Ranger stayed his hand and dropped to his knees, tears gathering in his eyes.

Legolas caught his friend in a firm embrace assuring him of his forgiveness and understanding. Aragorn wept openly then, venting all of his pent up pain and frustration.

Choking on his tears, he shuddered at the thought that he had nearly killed his heart's brother.

Now bestirred and gathering around the pair, the rest of the group could only sit and watch. Strong, imperturbable Aragorn had dissolved and Legolas' compassion was at once fully manifested. Puzzlement was written on their faces. Finally, Pippin could restrain his curiosity no longer.

"What happened? Is Strider alright? He almost killed you!"

"His rest was troubled," replied Legolas, "It was but a dream."

The answer seemed to placate the group and after glances all around and a few shrugged shoulders, the six settled back into their places.

Awake now, and more fully aware of what he had nearly done, Aragorn renewed his apologies to his friend.

"Ah, Legolas. I am become as a kin-slayer or Turin Turambar. But for your voice, you would dwell even now in the Halls of Mandos, and by my own hand. It is all too true that any nobility found in men has met its end in me. Take now this sword, for I am undone and not worthy to be its' master."

"Aragorn," replied the elf, "You cannot mean this. See? I am here and most certainly live."

Dropping the sword and shuddering, Aragorn answered, "Nay, Legolas, my friend, it is finished." and walked away.

Celeborn had come to check on his guests and, out of sight, had watched the episode unfold. Leaning against a tree, he pondered what he had seen. With Gandalf gone and the power of Narya to "rekindle hearts to the valour of old"(1) with him, Celeborn realized that it was up to those who remained to provide the encouragement that was necessary. An idea came to him then, and the Elf Lord followed Legolas as he left the glade, intent on sharing the plan which he would put into motion at the next night's dinner with the fellowship.

The next morning, the Ranger was nowhere to be seen and the sword lay where he had dropped it. With reverence, Legolas retrieved and sheathed it. The fellowship busied themselves – cleaning their gear or meandering through the many trails that led through the mellryn. All of them were concerned about Aragorn, but no one gave voice to his thoughts.

As Ithil chased Arien from the sky, the group began to gather for the evening meal. A table was lavishly laid before them. Meats, cheeses, vegetables and fruits beckoned to the weary travelers. There were even mushrooms! The Hobbits were ecstatic and Boromir and Gimli watched with amusement as the little ones gaped and swooned. Legolas arrived with a few select Galadhrim, the brothers Haldir, Rumil and Orophin. All quieted when Celeborn and The Lady made their appearance.

"Come, friends," said she, "Join us for a meal and conversation. You have now had a chance to rest and now is the time to restore your bodies through such succor as the elves can provide. Come, sit."

"But what about Strider," Pippin asked.

"He is here." Came the Ranger's voice from the edge of the clearing, as he strode the few lengths to the table. He did not look at anyone directly, but sat in his place, head down.

Celeborn raised his wine glass and spoke, "You have come many leagues on your quest, and have yet more to travel. Even the wise know not what you still yet face. May the Valar bless you all. Now, eat, and take your rest."

The hobbits didn't need a second invitation. Despite their concern for their companion, the aroma of the foodstuffs presented proved too much and they ate with great enthusiasm. Plates of mushrooms and meat flew from hand to hand. Gimli and Boromir put aside their wariness of things elven and partook eagerly. Why, their hosts had even come up with some ale!

Legolas and his Silvan kin conversed quietly, while eating a small portion of the cheese and bread. Aragorn, sitting, as ever, between the mortals and immortals, ate little and drank only water. Many tried to draw him into the conversation, but without success. He had spent the day in the forest, thinking and walking and praying to the Valar for answers to his questions. All the while, Celeborn watched, and waited.

When the meal was over, the Lord of Lorien rose from his seat. "We invite you," he said, "to join us for some song and the telling of tales. We will not go long into the night as do our kin in Imladris, and we have no bard to match Lindir, but we will sing songs of old, which you may find of some comfort."

The group rose as one and moved to the fire circle that had been prepared. Assured that the guests had full glasses, Galadriel motioned for the music to begin. A song, haunting and beautiful came from the minstrel's lips and though the words were Sindarin, none could miss the joy at the beginning of it. At the start, it was a lilting melody, then built to a towering crescendo, before turning to a soft and melancholy end.

"Come, and I will tell you the story of the song that you have just heard," said Celeborn, He beckoned Aragorn and Legolas to sit near him, one on his right and the other on his left.

"This is a not a story about elves, though our people play a part, but about a man."

At that, the group paid full attention. They had heard many songs and stories in Rivendell, but save for the tale of Beren and Luthien, all had been about elves. Frodo and Merry, their interest in history keen, had enjoyed them all, but the rest had grown tired of the same old elvish laments of times past. A story about a man, told by an elf. Now interested, Boromir gave Aragorn a nod as Celeborn continued.

"The man of whom I speak came from a family of elvellon, elf-friends. Long had they fought with my people against the great Enemy and their dwellings were besieged by orcs and other fell creatures. Fearing for his safety, the man's mother sent him forth to find an elven refuge in which to grow to his majority. He was very young at the time, about eight as measured by human years and he wandered in the land with a few companions for several years before coming upon a great elven city. He was found in the woods by the kingdom's Marchwarden and was taken to the court of the great King. There he was raised as a foster-son to the King himself. He grew in stature and wisdom and became a skilled warrior. During this time, the man was know among them as Adanedhel, which means man-elf. The Marchwarden who had found him became his greatest friend and tutor. Many were the years that the man and his friend wandered in the wilds, confronting foul creatures, killing any in their path."

"Sounds a lot like Strider," whispered Sam to Frodo, at a moment when Celeborn paused. The similarities were likewise not lost on the Ranger, nor on the elven Prince who sat beside him. Celeborn continued,

"Many years passed and the Enemy grew stronger. During this time, the King had gifted his Marchwarden with a great sword, one with history and renown. Together, the man and the elf had many adventures. One evening, betrayed by an ally, the man was captured by a band of orcs and taken to their caves. In the deep dark of night, the man heard another in his cell and assumed it was an orc of the band that held him. The other reached down with intent to cut the cords which bound his feet with a sword. The man, reacting quickly, grabbed the sword and slew his would-be assailant. Once his eyes had adjusted, the man looked upon the attacker who lay dead in his cell. It was his friend, the Marchwarden, who had come to rescue him from his captivity. He was much grieved by his deed and made a great song, 'Laer Cu Beleg,' which you have just heard. This is the story of Turin Turambar and Beleg Cuthalion, the Strongbow, and we knew them once, in Doriath long ago."

Aragorn and Legolas had recognized the song and knew what the Sindarin lyrics meant, but until they heard the tale as told by Celeborn, had not so much seen the story as like to their own.

"But what happened next," Merry asked anxiously.

Celeborn answered, " After Beleg's death, Turin had Beleg's great sword reforged and named it Gurthang, meaning 'Iron of Death'. Fey and dark was he and he took many names, among them Agarwaen, the blood-stained and Mormegil, the black sword, for the sword itself was magical and was made of a rare black metal-stone that had fallen from the sky. With it, Turin slew many and had many dealings with the creatures of Morgoth. Glaurung the great dragon was one of his foes and proved, in the end to be his undoing. The worm put a spell on Turin and sent him out to seek his long-lost family – his mother and his sister. The sister, Nienor, also at this time was searching for her brother, but the dragon intercepted her and laid a spell on her that made her forget all that had come before. The two met, fell in love and were joined, not knowing of their kinship. A little while later, the dragon again came against them. Turin slew the beast by hiding in the ground and thrusting the great sword into the dragon's soft underbelly. When Turin tried to withdraw his sword, the dying beast spewed its venom at him which left him unconscious. Nienor came upon him and thinking him dead, threw herself into a river and drowned. Upon waking and seeing Nienor dead, Turin asked his sword to kill him. In all the history of Arda, it was one of the rare few times when an apparently inanimate object spoke and acted as if alive, saying, "Yea, I will drink thy blood gladly, so that I can forget the blood of Beleg my master. …I will slay thee quickly,"(2) saw it done and thrust itself into the man's belly, killing him. Thus ends the story of Turin Turambur, for the time being."

"What do you mean, for the time being," asked Boromir, "Didn't he die and so make an end of it?"

Galadriel now took up the epilogue, saying, "Never in the annals of Arda is a story of friendship between Eldar and Edain like to that of Beleg and Turin, perhaps, save one, and we do not yet know the outcome of that, but the Valar still weep for the life and death of the two of Doriath. And to Turin was promised a position of great honor. It is said that at the ending of Arda that is, Morgoth the fallen will emerge from the void and a great battle will be fought. We know of this because we see Menelmacar in the sky nightly, the great swordsman, and who is said to foretell this. Turin Turambar it is that will strike the mortal blow, fighting at the Valar's side. Even Manwe, it is said, will take part in this great battle. There, after the breaking of the world, will all the children of Illuvatar be reunited and they will sing a new and more beautiful music and the world will be remade."

"Does that mean that men go to Valinor when they die?" asked Merry.

"No, it is still Illuvatar's plan that men accept the Gift and hence go beyond the circles of this world. The elves know not what happens after, but to Turin was made this promise. Even so, is it not enough that all of our peoples will be reunited someday? And we will see all of those we love – mortal and immortal - ere the new world is made?"

"So," said Celeborn, "The Tale of Turin and Beleg has been told."

"Umph," interrupted the dwarf. "There have always been tales of elves and men. What about the friendship of dwarves? Narvi and Celembrimbor were good friends – did you all not see the doors of Khazad-dum, wrought by their hands together?"

Celeborn winced at the mention of the great elf craftsman and stole a look at his Lady.

Galadriel replied, "This is true. But that is a story for another night. Now it is time for you to take your rest. Is there anything that you need, before you go?"

"No Ma'am," Sam replied for them all, and patting his belly said, "I am all full up! Let's go to bed." With that, the fellowship began moving towards camp, Galadriel leading the way.

Celeborn asked Legolas and Aragorn to stay behind.

"Let us share a further word, if you will."

Motioning for them to sit and leaning into the conversation, he regarded them both.

"The reason for sharing "Laer Cur Beleg" on this night cannot be a mystery to you. Tis true, it is the story of the friendship between a man and an elf, like to that of your own, but it is elsewhere that the lesson may be found."

He continued, "The tale of Turin Turambar and of the kin-slayers has already been written, even as that of Isildur, your ancestor. Their part on Arda has already been played and it is now history, over and done. Do you not see? We have not yet seen the completed tale of Aragorn Arathornion. You have much to do before that story is history and told in tale and song. You are not Turin Turambar, as you are not Isildur. Besides, are you not also scion to Beren and Earendil, Elros and Elendil? The story that is told is not the story as yet untold – your story. You are to be Elessar Envinyatar, The Elf-Stone, The Renewer. In you is all that is possible for the age of man to come."

"You may not yet know which pathway is yours to take, but you must have no fear that when the times comes to take up your destiny, you will be ready, and more than that, able."

And then, smiling in kindness, he added, "Would we entrust our beloved granddaughter to just any man?"

Grasping Aragorn's shoulder, Legolas replied, "Lord Celeborn is right, Aragorn. Guren bed enni, gwador. (My heart speaks for me, brother.) I will follow you wherever your path leads and we will, together, see the story of Elessar to its' completion. Like Beleg Cuthalion and Turin Turambur of old we may be, but with joyous end. Let us go forward, mellon-nin."

With that, the young Prince reached behind him and taking up the Flame of The West, (which he had brought with him at Celeborn's request) returned the sword to his friend.

Aragorn looked at them both, hesitated and then took the sword, saying, "Le hannon. (Thank you.) I am moved beyond words and I will endeavor with all my heart to live up to them. It is true that I have dwelt overmuch on the past. I will think on your words."

With a bow to the Elf Lord, the pair then left to join their fellows.

Celeborn had no small hope that the Aragorn who left Lorien would not be the same man who had arrived, and went in search of his Lady.

All too soon, the fellowship's time in the great wood came to an end and they made ready to depart. Before they left, Galadriel bade them to partake in one last meal and to drink the cup of farewell. At the close of the meal, the Elf Lord and his Lady presented gifts to the group.

To all, Galadriel gave elven waybread, Lembas, and deceptively plain cloaks closed with a mithril and green leaf. She spoke, saying, "In younger days, in Doriath, Melian and Thingol, the King and Queen during Beleg and Turin's time clothed their people in mystical cloth, woven by Melian's own hand. It is said that at need, the cloth would hide what is in plain sight and reveal that which is hidden. Take these then, which I have made with all my thoughts and good wishes. May they be of help you along your journey."

Galadriel also presented a gift to each member of the fellowship. A belt of gold was given to Boromir and ones of silver toMerry and Pippin. Sam received a mysterious box of earth and seeds and Frodo was given a phial of pure beautiful light. Gimli, awestruck, was given three locks of the Lady's starlit hair, which he cherished to the end of his days.

Turning to Legolas she said, "To you, our Sindarin cousin, we give a bow wrought by the Galadhrim. It is like to that of Beleg's which was called Belthronding, and like his, made of yew-wood. May you, our Strongbow, use it to good end."

Celeborn then reached behind him and produced a sheath. Handing it to Aragorn, he spoke, "A sword reforged and renamed deserves a new sheath. Take this then, and wear it well, for your sword is famed and so will its' bearer be."

Aragorn, placing Anduril in its' new sheath, thanked the Elf Lord.

Finally, Galadriel delivered into the Ranger's hands a beautiful brooch, crafted of mithril in the form of an eagle with a great green beryl stone set in its' middle. "This," she said, "I have been holding for you for many years. It was delivered into my hands by Olorin and brought by him from Valinor to be set against the day when it would be gifted to the one whose name it foretells. It is the Elessar, the Elf-Stone, and it was worn by thy forefather Earendil in days of old.(3) Take it then, and bear the name which you will take when you come into your own."

Pinning the brooch to his chest, Aragorn regarded Celeborn and Galadriel.

"I thank you for these gifts and much more besides. I thank you for your wise counsel, and the confidence that you have shown in me. I take your leave a different man than when I arrived and for that I am most grateful." He saluted them – hand to forehead and then heart, and took his leave.

Turning to his fellow travelers then, Aragorn told them, "Let us be off."

Dipping their paddles into the great river, and with the sun shining brightly upon them, the fellowship moved slowly away from the shore, knowing not what was before them, but with renewed vigor, confident in their quest and with peace in their hearts. And for the first time in a great while, Aragorn also looked forward - to fulfilling his part in the story untold.

The Silmarillion, Of The Rings of Power and The Third Age

The Silmarillion, Of Turin Turambar

Unfinished Tales, The History of Galadriel and Celeborn

Nearly all Sindarin taken from A Gateway To Sindarin, by David Salo, The University of Utah Press, 2004


End file.
